


the rain never came (so I made with the sun)

by howleht



Category: DC Cinematic Universe, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 03:06:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11682741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howleht/pseuds/howleht
Summary: “So get this,” Barry said. “I’ll bet this wasn’t what you were expecting when I first asked you out.”





	the rain never came (so I made with the sun)

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly DCEU compliant since I'm playing with the characterizations from that material.

The first time Barry asked him on a date it was during a, in his opinion, pointless argument.

 

“Reckless,” Bruce said, the voice modulator making his every word come out like a growl.

 

“Okay.”

 

“You were reckless and _stupid.”_

 

Barry contemplated his response. He noticed the rest of the league had silently walked away from the two of them, probably going home. Yet, he was stuck here being grilled by Batman because of an impulse decision he made to rescue him from being sprayed from head to toe with bullets. By rescue was really just shove really hard until he was clear from the immediate area. Barry was fortunate enough to have gotten away from most of the bullets. Most. He caught a couple on the left side of his suit, causing bruises that broke the “mild pain” threshold. His left side felt like it was on fire anytime he moved, but this outcome was ten times better than any other scenario involving Bruce in his place.

 

Barry shrugged and pretended like it didn’t hurt. “I think I did pretty good, despite everything.”

 

“Despite your injuries.”

 

“Yes, Bruce. You’re not as fast as me, you couldn’t have dodged them the way I did. I wasn’t just going to stand there. Besides, it’s not that bad. It barely hurts.” It did hurt. A lot.

 

“That’s not the point. You endangered yourself for no reason. Your orders were to stay in your position and help civilians. It doesn’t matter how fast you are, it was stupid to run out into open fire like you did.”

 

“You could’ve died.”

 

“I’m not your responsibility. Your priorities should be your orders only.” Barry rolled his eyes, opened his mouth to combat but Bruce lightly raised his hand. He continued, “You are a viable teammate. The league can’t afford to lose you because of a selfless decision you made without thinking.”

 

Huh. That wasn’t how Barry thought that was gonna go. He was taken aback by Bruce's words but made sure he didn’t show it because— well. Barry kept eye contact with the other man, crossed his arms over his chest, ignoring the painful sensation. Something about the way Bruce was looking at him caught him off guard and the way he spoke to Barry regarding what happened had him… reassess how Bruce felt about him. He considered Bruce and the rest of the league his family. He couldn’t say that Bruce felt the same way because of how closed off he could be. But now, Barry wouldn't consider it a stretch to say Bruce at least cares for him beyond being co workers who occasionally save the world together.

 

Bruce’s eyes on him were firm as he awaited a response. Barry gave him a small smile and then, “Do you wanna go out to dinner?”

 

Bruce blinked. “What.”

 

“Not tonight, though, I’m beat. I’m not even sure it’s still night.” Barry uncrossed his arms and put them together behind his back. “Maybe sometime this week? Don’t worry I’ll pay. I’m not a multimillionaire, though, so it might be a little less than you’re used to.”

 

Bruce was just staring at him. Barry was sure this was the only time he caught The Bat off guard. Finally, Bruce let out a short breath. “You are...insufferable,” he said, walking past Barry towards the exit of the Fox.

 

Barry’s smile widened. “So, was that a yes?” He called out, leaning forward as he watched him leave, anticipating the answer he already knew.

 

Bruce stopped at the ramp. He let out a short huff before he walked out. Barry stood there by himself, grinning. It wasn’t a no.

 

_…_

 

The first thing Barry did when he woke up the next morning was grab his phone.

 

 _Antonio’s is nice it’s by a lake,_ he texted.   _I can get reservations for 8 on friday?_ The response wasn’t immediate. It was eight on a Sunday, chances are he was still asleep.

 

A minute passed. His phone beeped.

 

Bruce responded, _I thought you were buying._ Barry laughed.

 

 _Asshole,_ he said.

 

When Friday rolled around, Barry spent at least twenty minutes picking out an outfit, and he quickly realized he didn’t have very many fancy clothes. He settled with dark jeans and a dark red blazer over a black t-shirt.

 

Bruce showed up ten minutes after Barry and the younger man sucked in a breath when he saw him. He looked...well, he looked handsome. He was wearing a grey turtleneck and a black blazer and Barry could tell he was cleanly shaven.

 

“Oh! Uh, here,” Barry quickly got up to pull Bruce’s chair out for him.

 

“Thank you,” Bruce said, sitting down. Barry went back to his seat and cleared his throat.

 

“You look nice,” they both said at the same time. Bruce ducked his head and gave a small smile, and Barry felt his insides flutter.

 

“Do you like it here?” Barry said, but he said it so fast it probably came out more like _doyoulikeithere._

 

“Yes. It’s quite familiar.” Barry would be lying if he said he didn’t do that deliberately, trying to make sure Bruce was as comfortable as possible.

 

“I made sure it was quiet. We’re in a calmer part of Central, there’s not a lot of people looking for trouble, or a lot of people who’d recognize one of the richest men in the world sitting in a tiny restaurant.”

 

The waitress came with wine and more breadsticks (Barry having eaten the first basket). Bruce ended up ordering the same thing as Barry after a good minute of persuading him ( _“The Brodetto is fucking fantastic here, you won’t regret it.”_ ).

 

When the waitress left with their menus, Bruce took a sip from his glass and said, “Billionaire.”

 

“Hm?”

 

“The other day you called me a multimillionaire. I’m correcting you.”

 

“I already felt like I had to reassure you that I don’t like you for your money, what’s it gonna take now?” Bruce huffed a laugh and Barry had to stop his smile from getting out of control.

 

“Speaking of,” Bruce said. “how’s your side?”

 

“Oh, um, it’s ninety-nine percent done healing up I’d say. It’s fine, I promise.” Bruce didn’t look fine with it, however. His mouth was set in a thin line and his eyes had that same look Barry noticed that night in the Fox.

 

“You need to think more rationally, next time.”

 

It was an understatement, to say Barry sighed. “Not this again. Bruce.” He was keeping his voice relatively low, couldn’t risk someone picking up on their conversation. “I’m fine. I turned out finer than you would have been if I _didn’t_ do something.”

 

Bruce opened his mouth to say something but Barry wasn’t going to have it. He put his hand on the table. “No, Bruce. I know you can handle yourself, I don’t doubt that for a second. But you’re crazy if you think I’m just going to stand by and let you get hurt when I can stop it. You’re my teammate and more importantly, my friend. I wouldn’t change what I did, and I wouldn’t do any less for the others. Can you just accept that?”

 

Bruce was watching him intently, his eyes suddenly growing sad. Barry didn’t know why. He looked at his hands on the table.

 

The waitress came by again, let them know their food was close to being done and left again. Bruce looked back up to watch Barry. “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly.

 

Barry shook his head. “For what?”

 

“For… ruining tonight.”

 

He smiled at the older man. “You didn’t ruin anything, B, I promise. I thought I would have been the one screwing everything up tonight.”

 

“Yeah, you’re doing a pretty bad job at that.” Barry just shook his head and let his right hand slide over Bruce’s left.

 

For the rest of the night, they more or less talked about how their lives were. Barry talked about Iris, his friends at the station, and how he was renovating the look of his current place of residence. Bruce let Barry ramble on most of the time after stating his life was full of either paperwork or villains running around with masks in Gotham. “That’s ironic,” Barry said, his mouth half full of stew.

 

The evening grew more and more dark until the only thing visible over the lake was the moonlight. Barry paid and he and Bruce walked out together, side by side.

 

“Thank you, Barry. I had a nice time,” Bruce said. “My car is…”

 

“I’ll walk you.” They walked slowly, shoulders brushing occasionally. Barry smiled. “Not bad for the first date.”

 

“First?” Bruce questioned, turning to look at the younger man. Barry’s heart stuttered.

 

“Uh, yeah, uh only if you want there to be a second?”

 

“Just give me a time and place.” Bruce was half smirking at him and Barry could— well.

 

When they reached Bruce’s car, Barry resisted the urge to gasp. It looked like it was worth more than Barry’s life. He wasn’t even going to ask. Bruce’s hand gripped Barry’s elbow for a second before letting go. “I’ll see you, Barry.”

 

Bruce was halfway around his car before Barry said, “Wait.” The other man turned toward him and stood still. Barry made his way over and stood there, searching Bruce’s eyes for a good couple of seconds before he leaned up and quickly pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

 

Bruce brought a hand to the back of Barry’s neck and stroked under his ear and he couldn’t help but lean into it. “I’ll text you?” Barry said and Bruce dropped his hand.

 

“Yes,” he said, smiling at him. Barry waited until Bruce drove further enough away before turning to head to his own car. He smiled to himself and hopped in the air to bump his toes together.

 

_…_

 

The next time they met it was for Barry’s lunch break on a Tuesday. Bruce picked him up in his car (a different one from last time) and they headed to a little sandwich shop on a corner.

 

“Well, you are notably dressed down,” Barry said. Bruce was wearing a casual jacket with jeans and a baseball cap he stuck on before they went inside. Not that he looked any less good, it was just strange… Barry thinks this might be the least dressed down he’s ever seen him. Even when they first met, the man was wearing a four piece suit.

 

Bruce shrugged. “I don’t have anywhere I need to be today, besides here.”

 

“I think it’s nice. Makes me feel less bad about shopping at the nearest Walmart.”

 

Bruce smiled in response. Barry could… Barry could get used to that.

 

At some point while Barry is talking, their fingers meet in the middle of the table and tangle together.

 

_…_

 

Bruce kisses him for the first time when they’ve just gotten back from a league mission dealing with Luthor and one of his schemes. Everyone was exhausted, sitting in silence, waiting for the Fox to land.

 

Barry waited until everyone left so he could talk to Bruce because all he wanted to do was lean into the man for a while. Bruce walked over to him, his suit a worn out mess; he suddenly leaned in, cowl and all, and pressed his lips to Barry’s. Barry immediately responded, running one hand over the bulk of Bruce’s arm and the other reaching up to grasp at the back of the cowl. It wasn’t rough, Bruce’s lips gentle but firm against the younger man’s. Barry couldn’t describe the feeling in his gut if he tried.

 

When they parted, they didn’t leave each other. Barry just hugged him and sighed against the neck of the cowl.

 

“Are you okay?” Bruce asked.

 

“Never been better.”

 

_…_

 

Barry is in the cave with Bruce after a long night of patrol. It’s nearly two in the morning and Bruce is going through files on one of the monitors with a blank look in his eyes, looking like he’d pass out at any minute. He’s in the suit minus the cowl and gauntlets and Barry is leaning against the desk with him. He’s tired as well, but he wanted to keep Bruce company.

 

After a few silent minutes Barry asks, “Want me to head out?”

 

Bruce shakes his head but says, “If you want.”

 

He doesn’t want to but he feels like he’s going to bother Bruce if he doesn’t. He runs a hand over the back of the older man’s neck for a few good seconds. He watches as Bruce relishes in the contact, shutting his eyes and letting out a relaxed breath. It’s a tender moment and Barry’s eyelids grow heavy as he watches him. Barry kisses his head and turns.

 

“Wait,” Bruce says. He turns in his chair and runs a hand over his tired face. “You can go upstairs. I’ll be up in a little bit.”

 

Oh. Barry nods and gives Bruce a wink before practically skipping to the elevator.

 

He hears Bruce huff out a laugh. “Damn kid.”

 

When Bruce climbs into the bed, he kisses Barry feverishly and pulls at his clothes. They’re slow and quiet, both too tired to do anything beyond touch each other. They slide their legs together and move and move until they’re gasping into each other necks. Bruce shudders, holds him like a lifeline when he tips over and kisses Barry through his.

 

Bruce is looking at him like he never has and whispers, “You’re beautiful,” while running his hand through Barry’s hair and over his cheeks. Barry feels like he can’t breathe and he doesn’t respond because of the things going off in his chest, so he curls into Bruce and closes his eyes.

 

_…_

 

He sees Bruce eating breakfast the next morning while reading through the paper and speeds to right beside him so he can throw his arms around him from behind. He half expects Bruce to throw him off but he doesn't, and instead greets him with a gruff “good morning” while resting his hand on one of Barry’s arms.

 

“Good morning, Master Allen,” Alfred pipes up, a plate full of food in his hand and a coffee mug in the other. He refrains from saying “it’s Barry” because it’s a request that never works on Mister Pennyworth.

 

“Thank you, Alfred,” Barry says cheerily after taking his breakfast and plops in a chair next to Bruce.

 

“Sleep well?” Alfred asks the both of them.

 

The pair share a look.

 

“I slept _wonderfully,_ Alfred,” Barry beams.

 

“Oh, god.” Bruce groans and takes a long sip of coffee.

 

_…_

 

Bruce spends the night at Barry’s place in Central and wakes to see him doing stretches sitting down, standing up, zipping around the room. Barry meets his eyes— well, the eye he has cracked open, and blows a kiss.

 

He watches as Bruce sits up to pop his back and stretch his arms. “Need help there, old man?”

 

Bruce throws a pillow at him.

 

_…_

 

 _I think I’m in love with you,_ is what he wants to say when he’s stroking over Bruce’s temples. Bruce’s bedroom is shrouded in a golden glow from the sunrise peaking over the trees outside. He’s sitting up while Bruce is laying on his stomach with an arm thrown over Barry. He’s awake, but his eyes are closed while Barry combs his fingers through his hair. He’s beautiful, and Barry’s breath hitches at the thoughts running through his mind. He doesn’t say the words.

 

_…_

 

“You’re good for him,” Alfred tells Barry while they sip tea outside together. “This is the happiest I've seen him in years.”

 

Barry can’t help but smile and embraces the familiar sensation that pangs in his chest.

 

_…_

 

There’s civilians everywhere, mindless aliens to his right that he should be taking care of, and an explosive device from them in his hand that’s beeping like it could go off at any second.

 

Barry barely has enough time to get far away enough from innocents to toss the bomb where a pack of the aliens were waiting for someone to come into view and get away before it went off. He felt himself being propelled forward from the blast and his face met the ground. Hard. He yelled in pain and felt his whole body burn with his movement.

 

 _“Flash, come in.”_ He heard that gravelled voice in his ear piece and sighed.

 

“I’m here, just had to deal with something. No biggie,” he said, wincing as he tried to stand.

 

_“Didn’t sound like nothing. Where are you?”_

 

Barry looked around. “I— I don’t know, listen I’m fine just—”

 

He felt the immediate sharp pain that felt like fire hit him in the side. He looked from where it came from and saw a pack of them aiming with blasters. He used what was left of his energy to speed behind a car but as soon as he had he realized how lightheaded he was. The pain in his side wouldn’t stop and he could feel blood on his fingers. His vision was faint and all he could think was that this was it, this is how he goes out. Fantastic, he couldn’t wait to not see the memorials.

 

Barry’s eyes focused on something coming in, his team, and he could make out a tall, dark figure making his his way across the street. In the midst of the fire. He saw him get grazed a few times but it didn’t slow him down and then familiar hands were on him. Barry smiled when he felt one rest on the back of his neck. He could make out the blast marks on Bruce’s suit. “Who’s stupid, now,” he murmured.

  


Bruce’s eyes were wide, filled with horror and Barry quickly realized he hadn’t seen him like this much either. God, he wanted to say something, anything but he was just so tired…

 

“Clark,” Bruce’s voice croaked out and suddenly he couldn’t see Bruce anymore and he was being swept away, through the air. He finally closed his eyes. He’d like to rest now.

 

_…_

 

He woke up in a hospital room and immediately squinted at the bright sun peering through the windows.

 

He looked to his left, first noticed the “get well soon!” teddy bear sitting on the bedside table and grinned. That was probably Vic and oh, the thought of his team, wherever they are, if they’re okay flooded his mind. He saw the dark head and sitting in one of the chairs by the window, wearing glasses with his nose buried in a book.

 

“Bruce,” Barry said and the other man stood, pulling off his glasses. He walked over to him on the bed and ran a hand through Barry’s hair, over his temple.

 

“Hey,” he said quietly and Barry just _leaned_ into the touch, he couldn’t get enough of it. “You took a bad hit, but they doctors said you should be fine.” Something in Bruce’s eyes didn’t match the calm in his voice.

 

“Is everyone—?”

 

“The others are okay. They were worried about you.” Barry sighed in relief. He reached up to grab Bruce’s hand and noticed the bandages on his shoulder peering through the collar of his shirt. Barry just ran his thumb over Bruce’s palm

 

“Are _you_ okay?” he asked the other man quietly. Bruce’s mouth opened to say something but nothing came out. Barry heard the shaking in his breathing. His eyes were dark and his face looked like it was seconds away from crumbling.

 

“No.”

 

“Oh, baby, come here,” he said and Bruce was in the bed with him, gentle so not to mess with the bandages on his side, but trembling all over. Barry kissed his hair and moved so Bruce could fit in the tiny space. The older man rested his head on Barry’s shoulder and sighed. Their fingers tangled over the sheets.

 

They breathed in silence for a little while before Barry spoke. “So get this,” he said. “I’ll bet this wasn’t what you were expecting when I first asked you out.”

 

Bruce chuckled and Barry could feel him smile. “No, it wasn’t.”

 

“Yeah.” Barry wrapped his other arm over Bruce and pulled him closer. “Me neither.”

 

He remembers the look of adoration in Bruce’s eyes after Barry muttered _I love you_ , and the intense feeling in his chest grow when Bruce said it back.

**Author's Note:**

> yay or nay


End file.
